The office where Steve met with his clients often served as the place that could keep him grounded in his present reality, its four walls bringing him a kind of safety when he was at risk of losing his footing. This day was no different as the victim turned counselor took some time to decompress between appointments, thankful his schedule wasn't fully booked.

Steve hadn't been much on decorating his small space, but his desk had the typical pictures, while one wall displayed his counseling degree and license for the state of Oklahoma. He even kept his high school diploma alongside them, a reminder of where he'd actually begun. Yet, he knew these were each symbolic of a journey that went far beyond academia, as all that had happened within him could never be summed up by a few documents. Reaching in his desk drawer, Steve took out the sleek black and gold pen his dad had gotten engraved for him when he graduated from college, the gift always a token of Nicholas' pride in him and their blessed relationship. As he began to write in the notebook reserved for his own personal thoughts, Steve reflected on the conversation he'd had with Chris the previous day, the two comparing their experiences with a woman who should've never been entrusted with their care:

"It wasn't something that started happening right away. It was gradual, and she was good at making my dad think she cared about me in a way that was healthy. But I know now that she was grooming me. She was laying the groundwork so it would be easy for her to get what she was actually after.

"It was gradual with me too. It's not like she was molesting me when I was a toddler. I was eight when it started, and the first memory itself is blurry. But I remember feeling extremely confused. Up to that point, my mother had been normal. She was kind and even overprotective. It's also ironic because she refused to be the one to handle punishment when I'd misbehave. My dad would spank me sometimes, but she couldn't do it. Yet, she touched me and created a hurt much worse than any discipline could have."

"She had to make it look like she'd never physically hurt you in any way. It was about appearance. She was an expert at- I'm sorry. I don't mean to make this into some kind of analysis. It's just what my brain does automatically."

"I'd imagine that comes in handy in your profession."

"It does. But what I should say here is she made it look like she cared about me. She was sweet to the point that it got on my nerves. She was my dad's girlfriend, but I wasn't interested in being close to her. My mom died when I was nine, and I was eleven when Clara- I mean, is it okay with you if I say her name? It seemed like you got the most upset when I said it at your place."

"You can say it. I've been a slave to her actions for too long, so I really need to take back my control. My autonomy still ceases to exist at times because of what she did. Like those memories and emotions make decisions for me"

"Yeah, I know what you mean about that. Pain can cause you to do things you wouldn't if you weren't hurting. I was eleven when Clara came to live in our house, and she seemed like she wanted to be my mom. I didn't want that, but I think my dad craved a connection so badly that he couldn't see any red flags there might've been. Her enthusiasm toward me was creepy, but it got worse when she started coming in my room at night. Nothing happened at first. She'd just be there watching me sleep, stroking my hair, stuff like that. But I didn't like it 'cause I was too old for anybody to be doing those things, especially when she wasn't my parent."

"She used to do that with me too, but I was little. She'd get in bed next to me, and we'd sort of cuddle. That was all though. She didn't molest me in my bed."

"My bed is where she did it to me. The whole coming into my room to act all motherly was like this precursor. Her way in so she could find the opportunity. The first time it happened, I just froze. I didn't say or do anything because I couldn't move. Breathing was the most I could do."

"I reacted like that as well. I didn't have the vocabulary for it then obviously, but now I know I was shocked and stunned. It wasn't like I knew the details or mechanics of sex, but I knew nobody should be touching me the way she was. She made me question that a lot though because she acted like it was our special secret. She only molested me during the day when my dad wasn't around. I'd be playing with my trains or trucks, and she'd do it then."

"So, did you tell your dad or anyone else?"

"No. I was afraid to. She even told me not to tell my dad or she'd be very sad. I didn't want to hurt her. At the same time, I was so ashamed, like I had to be a bad kid or like I must've caused this, even though I couldn't imagine how."

"I felt like that too, and it took years to undo. Clara threatened me by saying she'd tell my dad, and I was scared he'd blame me if he knew. She could get mean if I didn't just submit. When I tried to push her away or stop her, she got rough with me. I think she ended up getting a little too bold because she came in my room often. My dad finally caught her one night though, so that was the end of it for her."

"My Grandpa Jesse caught her with me. I don't know if she didn't realize he was coming over or what. They were fighting when my dad got home. He asked me if I could tell him what happened, and I did. I never saw my mother again after that. But I didn't want to either. She was evil, and I was definitely better off without her."

If Steve had been searching for someone with whom he could have both a certain breed of empathy and unexpected camaraderie, he'd found it. He continued to jot down his thoughts, his eyes only moving up momentarily to study a mug Soda had given him when he'd finished college, the print on it spelling out Proverbs 17:17- "A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity."

"So you really think she had her sights set on him as a third victim?"

"Absolutely. Soda and I have been over it backwards and forwards because he truly struggled with wishing he'd been abused too so he could've found out about me. Once he knew, he saw everything from back then in a completely different light. He didn't interact with Clara a whole lot, but some things stood out to him, and he didn't forget even when he had no idea there was a reason to remember. He's the one who heard her on the phone when she said she'd never do that to her own son, and that's when she invited him over to spend the night."

"But you guys didn't stay?"

"Nope. All I could think was she'd do it to him too, and that was worse than having her abuse me."

"You said she talked about me vaguely, right? So you knew my dad and me existed and our names. Did she ever say anything else about us?"

"Not much. She'd say I reminded her of you. She told me and Soda that she lost you, but we didn't know what that meant. It seemed like whatever happened was too painful for her to talk about, so even my dad didn't press the subject."

"After I found out about you, I couldn't help thinking my mother was trying to replace me. She had options, you know? She could have apologized. She could have changed. But she didn't love me enough to do that. When we were at my grandma's house, she came there once. I didn't know until later, but that should've been her time to stop being a bitch and just be a mother. She knew how, so I can't understand why she stopped."

"I'm sorry, Chris. This is where I can't even say I understand. Because I don't. And I don't know what any of her reasons or motivations were. Realizing what I do now, I think she must've been in a lot of pain, which isn't any kind of excuse. But, whatever was going on, it wasn't about you. Or me. She was too selfish to care how her actions affected anybody else. She probably lacked the capacity to even see it."

"One of the worst things for me has always been remembering how she was so nurturing and gentle. Even when she was molesting me, she tried to act like she was being nice. She still had that sweet voice. But I wasn't like you. I didn't fight her. I've never forgotten how much she denied what she'd been doing. Like she'd been wrongfully accused and was suffering a consequence she didn't deserve."

"In her head, maybe that was the case. She wasn't my mother, and I've still struggled with how she tried to seem like she cared about me at the same time the sexual abuse was going on. I've wondered what she was thinking at the end, if she ever had any kind of guilt or remorse. But I doubt it. If she was capable of that, she never could've hurt either one of us."

"I didn't go to her funeral. By the time I was ten, I'd learned to see my life in these two phases. One where I had a mother who loved and cared for me and another where she was gone. And when she died, I didn't lost anything. That loss had already happened, so I couldn't even bring myself to grieve."

Steve paused to look over what he'd written, his mind caught in a whirlwind of emotions as it played back the interactions his teenage self would've never believed he'd have one day. In the midst of shared trauma, he'd found himself inspired to reach out to Chris as much as he could, given their connection, unsure how it would be received:

"I think my dad was afraid to tell me it was suicide, but he couldn't get around it without lying. He didn't tell me how she died until I got older though. About seventeen, I believe."

"We must've found out around the same time then. We're about a year apart in age, and I was eighteen."

"Who told you? I don't think my dad would've known if not for my grandparents being notified. He filed for divorce not long after he took me, and it just went through because my mother never bothered to respond. So her parents were next-of-kin."

"The friend Clara was staying with when she died came to our house and told us she'd killed herself. Of course, at the time, I didn't know I'd ever see this lady again."

"What do you mean? Who was she?"

"Her name is Grace. She knew Clara just from seeing her in town a little bit. But now, she's also Samuel's sister-in-law."

"Wait. What? Somebody else in his family knew my mother?"

"Yeah. She's married to Vivian's brother, David. When I first started going to church when I was eighteen, he was the pastor there. I still remember seeing Grace and feeling like she was familiar to me somehow. My dad didn't recognize her, but she recognized us. She found Clara after she died, so the whole thing was pretty damn traumatic for her too."

"Wow. This is crazy. I never had any idea of what went on with my mother in the time just before she died, and now I do. I know she went on to destroy more peoples' lives. She didn't stop with me."

"I used to wonder if she ever came to realize what she'd done wrong and felt too bad to go on. I asked Grace a lot of questions when she sat down with my dad and me to talk about all of this. We can't know what those final moments were like, but from what Grace told us, nothing about Clara changed after she got caught abusing me. She was emotional but still in denial."

"As young as I was, her emotion felt fake to me right before I left with my dad. She made this big display of trying to talk to me and saying she'd never hurt me. She even asked me something about it not being bad and said she shouldn't have let anyone find out."

"So she referred to the abuse without actually naming it for what it was. Grace said Clara was crying and that she told her my dad thought she had hurt me. She said he overreacted, like there'd been some misunderstanding."

"So my mother blamed your dad. She also blamed my Grandpa Jesse. As if they were the ones who did something horrible."

"In the end, if she felt nothing else, she did at least feel the weight of losing all of us. For someone who tried to seem sweet, I don't think she knew what love is really supposed to be."

"She showed me what love isn't, and I've spent my life trying to be better than her. Trying to be myself and not just a molester's child. I feel like other people who have issues with parents can look at them and find something good in them, some admirable trait, but she didn't have any. Nothing on the surface was genuine."

"For whatever it's worth, I don't see you as a molester's child. Biology isn't everything. The worst people on the planet have children, but that doesn't mean their identities have to be defined by the actions of their might not help a lot, but I've struggled with who I am as well. Sexual abuse is so sinister because it has a way of affecting not just the mind and body, it also hurts the soul."

"I've felt like it would make a difference to me if I could just understand. But I never will. She's not here to offer any sort of explanation. If it weren't for Cindy, I would have no idea what a mom ought to be, or any woman really. For a long time, my grandma was the only female I wasn't afraid of."

"I had a wonderful mom for the first part of my childhood and also Soda's mom until I was sixteen, so I'm sure that helped me. Clara didn't mess up my view of women generally, but when it came to sexual relationships, things got rocky when I was younger. It seemed like I could never be physically intimate without memories coming up and wrecking the moment."

"They've wrecked every one of my intimate moments. Not that there have been many of them. My mother demolished my chances of a healthy sex life, and that's something I can't explain to a woman. It's just too embarrassing."

"Disclosing trauma is tough. The flashbacks I had played a huge role in ending my first serious relationship. Not that I think we would've stayed together long term anyway. She took my struggles pretty personally. We tried to make things work, but they just didn't. We're actually still friends though."

"I'm quite sure romance is a hopeless aspect of life for me. I've had two rather serious relationships, and I told both women I'd been abused. But I never could say how or by whom. Just that it happened when I was a little boy"

"Well, I thought romance could never work out for me till I met Liv. I think it helps that I've also been so lucky as far as always having a lot of people I can talk to. So I got where I'm comfortable discussing the abuse and the effects of it. That's basically what kept me alive, even back when I wasn't sure I wanted to be."

"I've felt like that too. I questioned my very existence at times. I wasn't suicidal, but I did injure myself often for a period when I was a teenager. It gave me a release I couldn't seem to find anywhere else."

"I was suicidal. I attempted when I was eighteen. That turned out to be both the worst and best experience of my life. But it did take a substantial amount of time and work for me to recover from it. It was basically another trauma."

"I could say the same for my self-injury. It started with enough complications of its own, but it got messier when I found out my mother died by exsanguination. I'd been cutting myself and watching it bleed. My dad felt like I needed a warning about what could happen if I accidentally went too far."

"Did that help you stop hurting yourself?"

"It did at first, but I also got fixated on the idea that I was like my mother. So that fueled the urges. To be honest, I relapsed this past weekend after you and Sodapop came over."

"I'm so sorry, Chris. I would never want-"

"I don't need pity, all right? Or an apology. I'm not even sure why I just told you that. I wasn't planning to. Nobody else besides my dad knows about my issue with this, so please keep it between us."

"I will. Don't worry. And, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. Not as a counselor, but as a friend."

"Thanks. But I really don't need your help. I'm doing okay on my own."

"Well, if that changes, just remember you have another person with a listening ear. I know I can't understand all of what you've been through, but I can relate to plenty of it. Even if you don't want to talk and just need someone to be present, I can do that too. I've found out from experience how much of a difference it can make to have a friend who cares. I've been blessed with a few of them myself, and they made damn sure I survived."

Steve hoped Chris would take him up on the offer if a need ever arose, as he couldn't help but think they had crossed paths for a reason that went beyond just a single conversation.

"Mr. Randle?"

At the sound of the voice that belonged to the counseling center's secretary, Steve's thoughts shifted back to work as he looked up from his desk. "Yes, Ms. Lane?"

"Your 2:00 is here. Edward Wallace? He called for an emergency appointment?"

"Send him in please." Steve put his notebook away as he mentally prepared to be there for the young man who had come to him in the throes of suicidal thoughts and parental neglect. He set up their usual space near the window, even though Tulsa was in the midst of a stormy day typical of late June."

"Steve? I hope it's okay that I'm here. I'm sorry if it's not."

Steve saw Edward in the doorway of his office, believing he never would've recognized the timid, tear-filled voice if his client hadn't been right in front of him. "Of course it's okay that you're here. In fact, I'm glad you are. Don't apologize for reaching out for help. It's what I do."

As Edward took the spot he normally occupied on Friday afternoons, he heard Steve close the office door, giving them the promise of privacy and complete confidentiality. He then put folded arms on the table in front of him, laying his head on top at the same time he felt more tears start to come. "I didn't know what else to do or where to go."

Steve scooted his own chair closer to Edward's, sitting down as he laid an initially hesitant hand on the man's arm. "Whatever is going on, I can tell you that you're doing exactly the right thing. I know it's tough when you're in the thick of it, but please talk to me as soon as you're able to do so. There's no pressure though if you need a few minutes. We have plenty of time."

Edward choked back a sob as he slowly found the words, knowing he was about to alarm his counselor more than he ever had thus far. "My dad hates me. He said it, Steve. He said he'd rather have Mom around instead of me. I hate myself too, and I wish I was dead. I should be 'cause my own father doesn't love me at all."

Steve wanted nothing more than to fold Edward into his arms right then, but he instead reached for the notepad where he often wrote things down during sessions. "Edward, I'm going to list a few reminders here on this paper for you, all right? We've talked about them before, and they're primarily for getting you through these kinds of moments safely."

Edward gave a faint nod, head still resting on his arms as he watched Steve write.

The list took shape quickly, as these statements were not only important to Steve professionally, but also personally:

I do not have to act on suicidal thoughts.

The feelings will pass.

I can stay safe, even when I am hurting.

Edward listened as Steve read the familiar concepts aloud, his vision blurry with tears. "It doesn't feel like it right now. At all."

Steve couldn't say so, but he knew exactly what Edward meant. Still, he chose to push on. "That will pass too. You've already taken the healthiest steps available as far as ensuring your safety. You decided not to be alone with your thoughts, and you're here telling me about how you're feeling."

"Yeah, go me. I'm in a shrink's office spilling my guts over my daddy issues."

If not for the brokenness still evident in Edward's voice, Steve would've seen the characteristic sarcasm as a positive sign. But, as things were, he could only view it as more evidence of distress. "You're doing the best you can, Edward. Sometimes the usual distractions don't help, especially when you have the sort of trigger you did."

"You mean the shit my dad said to me?"

"Yes. And what you're doing here is much better than drinking or acting on the suicidal thoughts."

"I'm not so sure about that. If I had a drink, maybe I could totally forget. I wouldn't even have to think about it."

"Not until the intoxication wore off and allowed the memories and feelings to return." Steve turned the notepad to the next page, his pen ready to begin another list. "I'm sure you remember how we've talked about the fact that the way you're feeling now is not indicative of a true desire to die, but rather a symptom of severe emotional distress. So, I'd like for us to spend some time labeling the emotions and feelings underneath it that are driving your spiral."

"What's there to label? I'm pissed off and sad. There's nothing more to say."

"Okay. Sadness and anger then."

Edward watched as Steve wrote down the pair of emotions, realizing that there were more tangled up within them, even though he didn't feel ready to confront each one individually. "Can we be done now? I don't feel anything else. Nothing that matters anyway. My own fuckin' father hates me, but I don't need him. My mom either. Screw both of them."

Steve wouldn't call Edward's resistance unexpected, as the young man tended to bury his pain beneath anger. Yet, the counselor himself knew that coping mechanism well enough to recognize it would soon fail. "Did the conflict today have something to do with your mother's absence?"

"Doesn't it always? But I wasn't even doing anything. I was just in the kitchen making lunch, and my dad went off." Just thinking about this again, Edward felt such a sting that he wished he had a way to numb the pain, as he was certain it wouldn't heal or even fade. "He was drunk and a little high. So I don't think he even knew what the hell was going on around him."

"Even if he didn't, it's okay if that doesn't make you feel any better."

"Yeah, I know. And it doesn't. It just makes me wish he would stop doing that shit and be my dad. He could, but I guess I'm just not worth it."

Steve looked first at the next list he'd begun, already able to predict what else would end up on it. He then turned his gaze back to Edward, seeing both the tears in his client's eyes and such a distraught expression that he couldn't bear to push him any further just yet. "Edward, I realize this is unusual, and you can absolutely say no, but may I have your permission to give you a hug?"

Edward's voice shook as he replied, finding the offer oddly comforting despite it's being unconventional. "Um, yeah, you can. It's all right with me."

Steve put his arms around Edward and held him close. Though he intended to keep the embrace brief, it lasted long enough for him to feel the younger man's head resting soundly on his shoulder as he also hugged back. Steve pulled away after less than a minute, ending the short moment of affection he felt Edward had needed. "You just really looked like you could use a hug. I'm a big fan of them myself."

"I couldn't even tell you the last time anybody hugged me. Maybe when I was a kid."

Even though Edward was eighteen, Steve saw him as a kid in a lot of ways, albeit one who had grown up much too fast. "Well, I've always believed that the physicality can help as far as keeping us calm and grounded. It's one thing to see and hear other people, but it's quite another to feel their touch."

"You sound like you know from experience."

"I do. Now, I think we should get back to-"

"Steve?"

"Yes?"

"Are you a counselor because something bad happened to you?"

"I'm sorry. I really can't discuss my personal life with you, Edward."

"But I'm just looking for a yes or a no. Not anything else."

Steve thought for a moment as he also wondered what precisely had tipped Edward off. But he didn't dare ask, as he wouldn't risk taking more attention and focus from his client, especially today. "Yes. Something did happen to me when I was young."

Edward cracked the first smile of this session as he spoke the thought which immediately came to mind. "Wow, it must've been a really long time ago 'cause you're pretty damn old now."

Steve laughed, not even caring that the joke was at his own expense because the grin on Edward's face was worth so much more than that. "Hey, we'll see what you think about that in about ten years."

"Maybe. But you'll be ten years older then too. A really old man."

"But wisdom comes along with age."

"So you'll always be wiser than me too?"

"Of course." Steve picked up his pen, eyes on the labels they'd already given the feelings Edward was experiencing. He knew that, yes, he'd become a counselor because of his trauma. Yet, that wasn't all. It was really only the beginning. "And I have the wisdom and insight now to tell you that what you're doing for yourself at this point in time truly matters. I'm kind of hesitant to dive back into therapy here, but I think we have to."

Edward hung his head as he sighed. "Well, I did basically tell you I wanted to kill myself a few minutes ago, so I guess you've gotta make sure I don't try."

"I do. But only because I don't want your feelings to make decisions for you. And the way to prevent that is to understand them. They can't manipulate or blind you if you have the upper hand by exploring them and sharing. Then they don't get all the power."

"You sound like you're talking from experience again."

"You're right. But the only thing I can tell you about it is that counseling isn't just a job to me. It's not just therapy either, it's healing. And, most of all, it's my life's work."